


Skin Deep

by Missy



Category: Laverne & Shirley (TV)
Genre: (Though Lenny isn't REALLY suicidal here) (Just terribly depressed for a bit), Comfort Eating, Comfort Sex, Crying, Cunnilingus, Eye Contact, F/M, Face-Sitting, Facial Shaving, Fingerfucking, Floor Sex, Friends to Lovers, Grooming, Hand Jobs, Humor, Intimacy, Love Confessions, Men Crying, Penis In Vagina Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rebound romance, References to Sexually Transmitted Diseases, References to Suicide, Regaining Confidence, Romance, Self Confidence Issues, Sex Sitting Up, Stubborn!Laverne, Tender Sex, Tenderness, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, mild grossness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:08:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29506707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: When Lenny's new girlfriend dumps him and accuses him of giving her an unsightly rash, Laverne offers to test out his morning grooming routine on her own bare skin.  But being this close to Lenny begins to bring up some unexplored emotions and needs for Laverne.
Relationships: Laverne DeFazio/Lenny Kosnowski, Lenny Kosnowski/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	Skin Deep

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amythis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amythis/gifts).



> for amythis, who wanted a fic based on the story Penny Marshall told in her autobiography about getting a rash every time she kissed Michael McKean. It just kinda..blossomed from there.

A low, sobbing groan filled the air as Laverne rounded the corner into Cowboy Bills, a sound far too familiar for her to ignore.

“Len, what’s wrong?” she asked before she laid eyes on him – and when she did see him she let out a pity-filled aw. Lenny was sitting teary-eyed at a table by himself with chocolate stained lips. He was clearly on his second sundae and his third Coyote Sody, and the glasses ringed his morose form as he rested his head face-down against the table.

“I can’t tell you!” he blurted out. “It’s bad! It’s the most embarrassing, awful thing you can imagine.”

“Okay…” she pulled up a chair and set down. “Is it Gretchen?” she asked, naming the girl Lenny had been seeing regularly over the past few days.

It was as if she’d rung a gong. “GRETCHEN!” he howled, squirming in his seat. “That name means nothing to me now! It means…” He burst into tears and Laverne sighed, rushing right over and wrapping an arm around him.

“Let it out,” she encouraged him, patting his shoulder, as she’d done a million times over the course of their friendship.

“It won’t help,” he said, counting out the flaws on his fingers. “Eating don’t help, drinking don’t help, telling Squig didn’t help…”

She raised an eyebrow. “Wow, he listened?”

“Kinda. He had headphones on at the time, but he nodded a lot.”

“Oh. This is serious,” she said.

Lenny sniffled. “Yeah, I feel so repressed! The only thing I wanna do is…”

He locked eyes on a spot behind her, and Laverne realized that he’d zeroed in on a bowl of Cowboy Bills’ wildly inedible chili being carried by on a tray by one of Frank’ waitresses. Laverne grabbed him as he lurched toward the tray. “Are you crazy, Len!?” she snapped.

“I don’t got nothing to live for!”

“Will you sit down and shut up!” He pouted up at her, his blue Precious Moments Figurine eyes showing betrayal. “Whatever happened couldn’t be that bad, and even if you think it’s bad right now, it won’t be as bad in a few weeks. And how dare you tell me you don’t got nothing to live for? You call Squig nothing? You call me nothing?!”

He shook his head and swallowed hard.

“All right?” he nodded again. “Finish your last sody and pay the bill. We can take a walk and you can tell me everything.”

He flushed. “I dunno if you wanna hear about this, Laverne.”

“Believe me, I wanna hear it,” she said firmly, and watched him like a mother hen while he finished up and paid off his tab at the register.

*** 

They took the long route home, Lenny with his hands tucked in his pocket and his head low. Laverne didn’t say anything. She’d walked this pathway with him many times before, similar ones in Milwaukee, and she knew that if she stayed quiet he’d tell her everything anyway. 

“We did it,” Lenny mumbled, stabbing his index finger on the button for the crosswalk and waiting for the sign to ding into place. “Me and Gretchen. Last week.”

A surprisingly sour curl of fury filled Laverne’s belly. She had no clue why – usually she was happy for Lenny, even proud, when his relationships got serious. But Gretchen was stacked, and worse, had seemed sweet – a woman likely to take Lenny away from Laurel Vista forever. Which would leave her down yet another friend after Shirley and Carmine’s defections. “Oh! That’s great Len.” Her voice sounded a little cloying to her own ears.

He shook his head. “Not so great. She dumped me today.”

“ So what happened?” Maybe he’d come too soon? Lenny seemed the type who might.

He winced and said it quietly. “She got a rash and said I did it to her. Said she couldn’t forgive me and thought I’d been with other girls. But I ain’t been with anyone! Not for weeks!”

“She dumped you over a little rash?” Laverne shook her head. “It might’ve been beard burn! Or maybe she scratched herself!”

“It wasn’t on her face,” Lenny blurted out. “And it wasn’t on the outside.”

“Huh? Oh. _Oh!_ Oh Geeze, Len…”

“DON’T OH GEEZE ME! I FINALLY FIND A GREAT GIRL AND HER PUSSY’S ALLERGIC TO ME!” Lenny shouted, an animal wail that made Laverne grab him by the forearms and shake him. An old lady crossing the street behind them paused, glanced at them both and moved on. Los Angeles was definitely – and thankfully – not Milwaukee.

“Len, wouldya calm down?” she asked. “I mean, did you do it with her without a rubber?” he shook his head. “Then how can she be allergic to your…?”

“Man goo?” Lenny asked, and Laverne cringed at the term. “I dunno, the rubber kinda leaked at the end when I got it out of her.” He threw his hands up. “I don’t know how girls work, Laverne!” _that was an understatement,._ she thought to herself. “Now she don’t wanna see me no more AND I’m scared I’m gonna turn any other girl I go out with into a tomato!”

“Just forget about her, huh? There are plenty more chicks in the ocean, Lenny,” she said, rubbing his forearm. They were a few feet from their front door, and Lenny was starting to tear up again. “You’ll find another girl who’ll love you even more,” Laverne said.

“Nobody loves me, Laverne,” Lenny pouted as they headed up the steps and the short staircase to her apartment. “Why do you think I’m the Lone Wolf?”

That managed to touch her heart, even though she recognized the melodrama in his voice. “If you’re gonna be a big baby about it…” she shrugged. “Tell you what. You go back to your place and take a shower – a REAL shower, feet included….”

“Them too?” he asked incredulously. Then he raised an eyebrow. “Uh, why’d you want me to do that for, Laverne?”

She immediately knew what that hopeful expression meant. She smacked his shoulder. “Len!” She said. “I want you to take a shower in your place, get all the stuff you’re wearing off your skin – AND in your hair - and then bring it all to my place. We’ll put it on you bit by bit and we can find out what might’ve set Gretchen off. If you didn’t get your ‘stuff’ in her, it has to be on your skin or in your spit somehow.”

He laughed. “Whattdy’a expect me to do? Kiss a pillow and see if it breaks out?” She shook her head, and somehow Lenny put two and two together. He gasped. “Laverne! That’s kinda risky. I mean, what if I give _you_ a rash?”

She shrugged. “I ain’t got any dates lined up for the next week, so it won’t matter if I break out. “ She hadn’t been seeing anyone since Mike had dumped her for a beautiful Scottish blonde named Fifi, another disgusting subject she didn’t want to delve into. “And all I’m gonna do is prove to you that girls ain’t allergic to you. It ain’t like I’m gonna let you get anywhere near my…”

He held up a supplicating hand. “Got it,” he said. He veered toward his apartment and said, “Thanks Laverne. You’re a real lifesaver.”

“Any time,” she said, heading into her own apartment. Knowing Lenny would be awhile, she tossed her keys aside and left the door unlocked. While she waited for Lenny, she might as well do some dishes and dust a little.

God. First she was Florence Nightengaling Lenny, now she was doing chores on a Saturday afternoon. Had she and Shirley somehow swapped brains?

*** 

Lenny arrived a half hour later, in his pale pink plaid robe with its rope tied around his waist, a towel slung over his shoulder and the bottom half of his Bullwinkle pajamas. In his right hand he carried a paper sack, and he was barefooted. His hair was still wet, and Laverne realized suddenly she hadn’t seen it without a sheen of grease in it since he’d resolved to become James Dean at fifteen. Denuded of his Brylcreem, he looked more boyish, and hanks of dark blond kept trailing, half-dried, across his eyes. She pushed the thought away and concentrated on the task at hand.

Laverne had changed clothing, into a simple teeshirt and cut-offs, and she’d gathered a thick pile of towels and a little basin of water so they could rinse away stray traces of shaving cream. 

“OK, this is everything I put on me that night,” he said. Laverne dumped out the various containers – there were, unsurprisingly only about four things – aftershave, shaving cream with a razor, cologne and his hair pomade. This would be quick and easy. “And I used that minty shampoo stuff and the soap you bought for me, and I brushed my teeth with the Crest you got me too, even though you didn’t say to ‘cause I did it that night too.” That had been a couple of months back, and she’d done it in trade so the boys would watch her old boyfriend’s son for the afternoon. Mike still owed her for that one.

“And we know those don’t do anything to me after you mashed me at Pop’s big councilman’s dinner last month,” she said.

“Yeah,” Lenny said, and she saw disappointment flicker over his features. Laverne just rolled her eyes.

“Is any of the rest of this new?”

“Just the cologne. Squig got it at a swap meet in Berkeley,” he said. “It’s made out of real musks!”

Laverne snorted. “Sit down on the floor,” she told him. This would ensure that the couch didn’t get messy, and that she could better see him under the overhead lighting. When he did so, she sat down beside him, and grabbed the shaving cream. She dabbed her hands in the water basin and dampened his skin with it, so she wouldn’t give him razor burn. Lenny flinched in surprise at her touch, but she stayed gentle. Then she squirted a little shaving cream on her hands and then began to carefully apply it to Lenny’s jawline.

Immediately, she wondered if she should have let him apply the stuff to his own face. This was surprisingly intimate work. She could smell the toothpaste on his breath as it puffed out and kissed her chin, and his body heat radiated out, keeping her chest and belly toasty in the already warm California air. Laverne was closer to his body than she’d been in some time, close enough to see the faded shadow of his freckles scattered across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. She flashed back to their childhoods, and the skittish but cheerful little boy who stuck as close to Squiggy as he could but would always break away from him to play tag with her. That made her movements careful, more deliberate, as she dunked the razor into the basin and then began to shave off Lenny’s five o’clock shadow.

It occurred to Laverne suddenly that his skin was incredibly soft for a guy’s. The tips of her fingers tilted his jaw up, leading him forward, the way she had done a million times before during the occasional make-out sessions.

“You’re always doing that,” Lenny blurted out suddenly.

“Huh?” Laverne muttered. She’d been carefully working the razor around the rounded curve toward the tip of his chin.

“Leading me by the chin,” he said. 

She snorted. “Yeah, and you’re always pulling me around by the hand.” Laverne concentrated on carefully shaving down his neck and throat without slicing his adam’s apple. 

He smiled. “That’s cause you got shorter legs than me.”

“You call these things short?” she gestured to her folded gams, which were underneath the curve of her heiney. 

He swallowed hard. “Nope.” Huh. She would’ve guessed he was a boob man. “Uh, Laverne…”

“Just let me get this…and…done!” she grabbed one of the towels, dipped it in the water and cleaned his face, then dried it. “Whattya think?” she asked.

“Feels smooth,” he said, testing his own cheek. “So how’re you gonna figure out how to test the stuff on bare skin?”

Laverne shrugged, leaned over, and nuzzled her cheek against his.

She realized immediately this was a mistake. She was leading him on again, a tiny, Shirley-shaped voice in the back of her mind reminded her. Then the way he sucked in a breath and rubbed himself back against her caused little goosebumps to sprout up on her flesh. It was inexplicable. She’d been close to him before. Why did it feel so good this time? 

“Laverne?” he murmured. 

She sat back, a little dazed from the warmth. Forcing herself to get a grip, she reached for the aftershave and sprinkled some on her palms. She pressed it gently to Lenny’s cheeks and a warm, inviting scent filled the room. Laverne was so used to it clashing with the smells of his cologne, a mouthful of food and his sweat that she’d never noticed how nice it was on him.

She leaned forward and rubbed her other cheek against his freshly dressed face.

“You don’t need to comb my hair,” he said suddenly, his voice breathy. “If you ain’t broken out from rubbing your hands in it, it ain’t gonna do anything to her. Especially down there.”

Laverne mumbled her agreement and sat back. Why was she disappointed they were calling a halt to the experiment? 

“Besides, my comb’s with my pocket tools, and I left them in my other jeans,” he said.

Of course they were.

“Thanks, Laverne…” he started saying, trying to get up.

She cut him off. “Maybe I should try kissing you?” she wondered, as her inner alarm bells pealed and her tiny Shirley shrieked her horrified dismay. His eyebrow rose. “Just to see what works,” she said quickly. 

Lenny looked uncomfortable. Was she making this weird? Especially when her big goal was to make him feel better about getting dumped? Was she this hard up post-Mike? 

“Forget I asked,” she groaned, turning from him. But he caught her wrist.

“Wait, Laverne,” he said. “I was just surprised. You can kiss me if you like. Uh, to make sure that the stuff in my mouth ain’t what made Gretchen rashy.”

His cheek was smooth and sweet smelling against her lips. She pecked him several times, just to be sure she was fully exposed to his skin.

She pulled back. This time she realized how long his eyelashes were – a metallic carpet against his peachy-pink tan. Those very long eyelashes fluttered and he bit back a sigh, revealing his slate-blue eyes. To her amazement, he looked more than handsome to her in that second. Beautiful. He was beautiful.

As hard as Laverne tried to pull away from the feelings that Lenny stirred up in her, she couldn’t do it. 

Their lips brushed, and then pressed, together. 

He tasted fresh and sweet from the toothpaste. Laverne’s mouth opened and admitted his tongue, which had waited timidly for her permission. They teased, flicked, experimented, time dripping by like honey down a fresh comb. It lasted for minutes, her fingers moving through his soft hair, his big hands tentatively pressed to her hip. 

He pulled away and stared at her silently. “Uh. I think you rubbed against me enough.” He shifted uncomfortably against the wooden floor.

Laverne glowered at Lenny. She should have taken the hint. After all, she didn’t want to make out with him, did she? They were both fresh off of brand-new heartbreaks after all – and it was Lenny, for pete’s sake! How many times had she rejected his advances since they were old enough to know what advances were? She’d served her purpose and she should be yelling at him to get out.

But on the other hand…

…On the other hand he looked so _sad._ So alone. The kind of alone that usually resulted in her taking him to the movies, or out for ice cream. But his insecurity was sexual. Maybe if they did it, he’d feel safer, less sad, knowing she wasn’t covered in some kind of rash?

Laverne’s common sense melted away as she stared into his eyes. She was on the pill, and they were both free and single. Who was there to stop her? Shirley was in Germany, she reminded herself, shutting away her little personal Jiminy Cricket. Carmine was in New York, taking anything they would’ve sparked up together with him. Her pop was too busy wining and dining his fellow councilmen to worry about her. Rhonda likely couldn’t care less, and Squiggy had been actively rooting for this to happen since they were a gaggle of rowdy teenagers.

So then came the question that had been lingering on the back of her tongue all afternoon. “Do you wanna stop kissing me Len? 

He snorted. “Ask me if I wanna stop breathing.”

She groaned and leaned across, pressing her lips to his again. This time the kiss went way longer, and resulted in him pulling her closer, until she straddled his thighs and sat in his lap with her knees spread on either side of his hips. Laverne realized two things as she did so - those pajama bottoms were very thin, and the couch was just high enough for him to rest his head against as they made out. She couldn’t stop herself from grinding against the bulge barely hidden by the latter, and she couldn’t stop looking into his gaze when he leaned against the former.

They idled, kissing each other, enjoying each other. But the moment needed a firm decision. Laverne grabbed one of Lenny’s hands and planted it on her chest.

His next ‘Laverne’ came out in a confused whimper. 

“Yes, Len,” she said. And then she slid the hand down toward the hem of her tee-shirt . 

But instead he squeezed her fingers. “You gotta know something first. I didn’t make anything with Gretchen up, just to get you to kiss me and do what we’re doing. I promise, Laverne.” 

The sincerity in his eyes was so naked that her heart turned over. “I know.” Even Lenny wasn’t so desperate as to fake an attempted suicide by awful chili. But then another idea occurred. “It ain’t too soon after Gretchen?” He’d been pretty broken up after this afternoon. Maybe he did want her back.

“Laverne, I got a little bit of pride in me,” he said. “I ain’t going back to a girl who said I gave her the clap.”

That was definite. “Okay,” she said. Her arm went around his neck, her other arm pressing his torso closer. They kissed again, and his fingers skimmed her teeshirt up toward her armpits.

She had to separate from his touch so he could get the thing off of her, and when she did he stared blankly at the flesh she’d revealed. Laverne snorted. “Len…”

“Sorry,” he said. “I’ve just been waiting a long time to see ‘em.”

“You’ve seen that much of them before,” she pointed out. Laverne was still wearing a bra – and not her cute one, which was upstairs in her lingerie drawer, unused because she really hadn’t been expecting anything of the evening.

“Not this close up,” Lenny replied, pushing his face into the divide between her breasts and breathing in the scent of her perfume. 

She sighed, played with his hair, let him press soft-lipped and dry kisses down the divide and up each curve of her breasts. She led his hand to the clasp at the back of the bra, and together they tried to awkwardly paw the fastenings open.

The problem required four hands, but they got the work done with two. Laverne shimmied her shoulders and the straps came down, allowing Lenny to tug them off her shoulders and help it down and off of her arms.

He stared at her for a second or two, before leaning in and kissing the tip of her left breast, the bra still crumpled up in his fist. He kissed each again in turn again, and then licked the tip of the right one, gauging her reaction – which was to shiver and sprout goosebumps everywhere. He used his lips to tease her, before repeating the treatment with the other nipple.

“Len!” She hadn’t expected sophistication out of him. Then again, he’d been able to make the beds of several girls shake, so he had to know how to do something to make them happy.

“A long, _long_ time,” he growled, before diving back into his work. This time he took her right nipple between his lips and sucked upon it firmly.

Her hands snuck down to the tie holding his robe closed. Laverne winced as the clothesline rasped against her palm, but she tugged the granny knot out of the belt and parted the front of Lenny’s robe. It had been ages since she’d seen him shirtless, but she realized suddenly he must’ve been spending some on the beach – his tan line ended at his beltline. It was a solid body, not muscular but still lean and strong. Laverne teased his skin with the tips of her fingers, tickling Lenny’s nipples as he had hers. He rolled, belly rippling with muffled laughter, toward her touch. The laughing turned to moaning when she gave one peak a pinch.

Lenny’s right hand – the one that was still holding her bra - was clutching her by the ass, but the left slid over her hip, toward the hem of her cut offs. His fingers scooped downward, under her beltline, and cupped and stroked her sex before eagerly rubbing her with his fingertips.

Laverne gasped, sat back against Lenny’s crotch while he earnestly and firmly continued to pleasure her through the thin layer of cotton that were her Saturday panties. She rocked into his touch, rubbing her chest against his mouth. Lenny bit down on her gently, before switching breasts again. Laverne ground her bottom against his cock and he ground himself back into her. 

She had to get her shorts off before he exploded in his pajamas, which was about the last place she wanted Lenny to come that afternoon-cum-night. Scrambling to her feet broke all contact between them, and he let out a disappointed groan, panting as he sat there with his legs sprawled.

“Hey Len?” His blue eyes – superheated and filled with need – focused right on her face. Laverne decided to make a show of it, standing up with him between her legs. “Maybe I’ll have a different reaction if I rub your face against another part of my body?”

Then she reached for the zipper on her cut-offs. 

He bit his palm, which she knew was coming but was still incredibly flattering. Laverne couldn’t kid herself. This had stopped being some kind of mercy mission to make Lenny feel better ages ago, and it definitely wasn’t about attaining a rebound fling for herself. It was about being close to him, about being with him, about finally opening her arms to him. The boost to her confidence was just a bonus treat.

She watched him shrug the robe off, then start to squirm out of the pajama bottoms. But he stopped when it was a couple of inches below his navel. Instead, he plunged the fingers he’d been using to play with her into his mouth and sucked as he watched her roll the cut-offs down and off, and then pause with a finger in the waistband of her panties.

Lenny groaned, reached down and squeezed the tempting bulge in those incongruently innocent pajama pants. “Come over here and sit on my face,” he moaned.

“Yeah,” she snorted, shimmying out of her panties and climbing on the sofa. His jaw dropped at the sight of her completely naked, and she wondered if she was visibly wet. “That was my plan, you big dope.”

“I won’t look so dopey when I’m eating you out,” he declared. “I happen to be good with my tongue. Even Gretchen said so.”

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah. I like pussy. Tasting your pussy’s gotta be like tongue-diving heaven. You like it when a guy fingers you when you’re getting eaten?”

“Gonna have to prove that to me, Len,” she said. “And yeah.” Straddling his head on the cushion took some effort, but she managed to do it. He pulled her down a few more inches, which left her knees propped under either side of his head and left him trapped to a degree between her legs. It opened her up for his tongue, but left most of his anatomy frustratingly distant from her touch. 

He started by kissing her thighs, little light whispery pecks that led upward. Then he kissed her labia, as if he were trying to seduce her into spreading herself wider. He lapped her there, not complaining about her pubic hair, or the way she tasted, the way other guys she’d dated in California had. Then his thumb and index finger held her open, and with long licks, teasing brushes and tiny kisses, he melted her down and wound her up.

Lenny was nothing if not creative. He filled her with his tongue, and then made a gliding motion, sliding the tip of his tongue toward her clit and flicking against it teasingly. All of those light touches led to some loud, brazen slurps – wet, open mouthed kisses. Laverne couldn’t stay quiet, groaning loudly – she couldn’t stay still either, writhing against his touch. Even the humid burst of his breath tightened her up, making her muscles contract against nothing. She felt one of his long fingers enter her slowly, in a teasing way, and she dripped down into his palm, wetter than she’d been in long time.

Lenny circled her clit, patient, shockingly patient, then flicked across it. That made Laverne suck in her belly and squeeze his head between her thighs. Two more fingers entered her. Another pass and she ground herself against his mouth. He was making her even more shameless than she usually was in bed, and she reveled in it as his right hand snaked up, teasing her belly, and then cupping one of her breasts.

He built her up to that first orgasm as if he were crafting one of his songs. Repeating verses into a crescendo. She demanded aloud he keep going, that he give her more, like the most ardent fan. His lips closed around her clit and her thighs clamped hard around his face. By then she was so far gone that all he had to do was hum against it one more time to make her come. Laverne recalled shouting something but not much else as she went over the edge, shuddering, going limp against his grip.

When Laverne returned to herself, Lenny was still licking her, planting further gentle kisses against her labia, as if he didn’t want to leave the moment via the art of extending her orgasm. His right hand had left her breast. She opened her eyes and realized that that hand was working busily underneath his pajama bottoms, stroking his cock. The sight kept her fire in her belly alive, though banked it. Laverne patted his chest, slid a hand down his long, ivory belly. The very tip of the head of his cock poked up over the edge of his waistband, delicate-looking somehow in shades of pink, turning rosier as his hand kept stroking. Laverne wanted to feel it in her own hand, and to accomplish that task she scooted until she leaned over his prone belly, freeing Lenny’s head and mouth but leaving her pussy within viewing distance. Her hands rolled the waistband down and his cock thrust free of the material, thick and long enough to make Laverne gasp. She’d never imagined his cock – okay, maybe she’d thought of it every once in awhile, spending at least as much brainpower on the question of where he bought his underwear. In those rare – she swore to herself – imaginings, it was thicker than in her dreams and a bit longer – proportionate, though, to his lanky form. Straining to reach it with the tip of her tongue, she could now surround it with her hand thanks to the angle of her body, pushing his own away, stroke it just as slowly as he’d licked her, sampling the musky, freshly-washed taste of him. He was silky, the hair at the base of his cock spun butterscotch shades of blond.

“Hey, come back…oh God, Laverne,” he groaned, releasing the bra at last against the floor. Lenny was extremely verbal, trembling and moaning as he got harder and thicker when she stroked him. He couldn’t stop talking, telling her how good it felt, occasionally giving her fresh instructions, but mostly lauding her, praising her. 

Laverne considered sucking on him until he came, just to see if his semen had any effect on her tongue or mouth, but she wanted him in her too badly to risk getting him off this way. She clumsily got off the couch on shaky legs and grabbed a towel.

“Put it under you,” she said, handing it to Lenny. That would simplify clean-up a little bit. Lenny scooted the towel under his bottom, discarding the pajamas beside him, and then waited with his hands braced on the floor, cock sticking straight up and his legs crossed before him.

Laverne immediately straddled his folded knees, and then lowered herself over Lenny’s cock, her right hand seeking his left out of habit and her left hand cupping the back of his head. His blue eyes snapped open and they stared into each other’s faces as they united.

“ _Oh,_ ” she moaned, feeling him fill her.

“Laverne,” he grunted back, hips rising to greet hers. The connection was tight but very well lubricated, and when he was fully within her she angled a knee around one hip, then the other, until she sat with him inside of her and enough purchase to ride his cock.

She couldn't seem to blink, or turn away from him. There – in his brimming eyes - she saw all of him. His naked vulnerability, his desperate, needy love; the stormcloud of sex, but he was still her other best friend. She’d always known that if they’d gone ahead and turned their relationship sexual she’d never be able to untangle herself from the slovenly intensity that was Leonard Walter Kosnowski. And it hit her, clean and quick, like a strike from a mallet – she didn’t want to untangle herself from it. It was always going to be about love between them, always about fulfilling some need those two lost, motherless children who lay at their hearts had. Always about two souls smashing into each other in a red, messy crush.

Their gazes remained locked as she rose and fell upon him, slowly and deliberately, wanting this to last. He followed her lead. To Laverne’s relief, fucking Lenny was much easier than dancing with him.

For Laverne, this was freedom and bliss all rolled into one. She loved topping guys and guys usually loved her natural sense of aggression – Lenny was no exception to the rule, his moaning was loud, his writhing obvious, his long fingers curled into hers. He gave back as good as he got and they were a perfect example of the sweet magic of cadence and tempo. Slowly, the connection between them intensified. Slowly, the resonant slap-slap-slap of her ass hitting his thighs filled the room. Higher and hotter the intensity built, until one of his magic, calloused thumbs found her clit and teased it while they made out sloppily, driving each other to the edge of reason.

The whole time, their gazes remained locked together.

Laverne’s orgasm snuck up on her and made her pull at Lenny’s hair, her eyes finally slamming shut as his persistent touch won out, almost falling backward and off of him. But his hand was on her hip and he was headed toward his own climax – which he came to loudly, shuddering, his eyes unfocusing and rolling back into his head. 

Laverne clung to him, nuzzling his cheek, as they came down from the high. Then she rested her cheek on top of Lenny’s head, kissing his crown, sighing as the tension worked out of their bodies, leaving them satisfied and limp.

She’d heard his words, just as he lost himself. _I love you._

Laverne couldn’t answer him back yet. She did love him too – as a friend. Definitely as something more, now. But she couldn’t give him the hearts and flowers he deserved yet. 

She kissed Lenny until he came back to himself. And he cupped her cheek and looked her in the eyes. “Laverne...” he began softly.

“Was it good?” she asked.

He nodded slowly, innocent but less vacant eyed than usual. “Like heaven.”

She cut him off, dodging the question. “Why don’t we go upstairs, get into bed, and put on a monster movie?”

His eyebrows went sky high. Whatever he’d expected, it wasn’t to be invited to her forbidden upstairs sanctum. “Sure,” he grinned. She helped him stretch his legs as they stood, gathering the towels as they went to dump them into the laundry.

“Y’know,” Lenny said, as they hit the landing, “maybe we should find out if you get itchy with me on top.”

“Len, that’s…” She turned around to look at him and the man was standing there, with that infuriating look of innocence in his eyes – and a hard on.

She groaned and pulled him into the bedroom by his hand. Yeah, he’d definitely be worth any rash she ended up with.

*** 

“Laverne!” Lenny shouted, barreling into the apartment two weeks later. “Good news! Gretchen called and said she was sorry. Turns out the problem was her, not me!”

“Oh yeah?” she asked, tossing aside the baseball magazine she’d been reading. “What was wrong?” 

Lenny shrugged. “Turns out girls shouldn’t douche with butter.”

She cringed. “Yeah, that ain’t a good idea.”

“So,” Lenny said. “I guess that’s it for us then.”

“Len…”

“I mean, I know you were just doing me a favor. And you’ve kept doing me a lotta favors all week. Like helping me fix that shower head with your foot…” his eyes unfocused and got that dreamy, distant look to them. “But that don’t mean you want more from me.”

“Lenny!” 

“So I guess we’re just gonna have to be good…” 

She shut him up by kissing him.

It was a long, powerful kiss, one that trapped her tongue in his mouth and left her gasping. They turned red – they sweat – they tasted and touched each other and it was just as it had been the week before. Those big hands found her waist and pinned her hard to his body.

When they separated his eyes were shiny. It was as if he’d learned something fresh just by holding her close to him. His smile was sweet and a little bit wicked. She just stared at him, daring Lenny to say anything to her, knowing how hard she could punch.

Then he said, with great feeling. “I love you too, Laverne.”

She groaned and hid her eyes against his chest. Sometimes words just weren’t necessary.


End file.
